


In Which Sherlock Gets Saved by a Girl

by Lue4028



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John, Chauvinism, Diva Sherlock, F/M, Gen, Genderbending, M/M, Military, Protective John Watson, Sassy John Watson, Sherlock Has a Military Kink, bitchy sherlock, partronization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 09:53:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18428138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lue4028/pseuds/Lue4028
Summary: "I woke up female today," John says once he descends from his bedroom that morning. Sherlock looks at him perplexed. John then goes to make himself his morning tea. They don't discuss it.Let the crack fiction ensue. If you need BAMF John, this is your stuff.COMPLETE. ONESHOT.





	In Which Sherlock Gets Saved by a Girl

"I woke up female today," John says once he descends from his bedroom that morning. Sherlock looks at him perplexed. John then goes to make himself his morning tea. They don't discuss it.

Three days later while they are seated across from each other at the living room table, Sherlock finally gives and lowers his newspaper, demanding to know " _how?_ "

John sighs. "I think... I might have...." he rubs his face with his hand, "I might have pissed off a feminist."

"John, you didn't-"

Didn't he know better? It was an unspoken rule. Never, never upset the feminists.

John covers his face in his hands, his shoulders sagging. "I did."

"But how did they-"

"I don't _know._ Don't ask me."

Sherlock looks back down at the newspaper fine print. They don't broach the subject again until Sherlock is called on for a case.

"John, maybe you should stay back, you know, considering your condition?" he says uncertainly as he's collecting his coat.

"Sherlock, you're blatantly being sexist."

"Well, excuse me for worrying!" He huffs and spins on his heel, coattails disappearing out the door.

"What, do people not usually point that out to you?" John demands, irked. "God is the male ego really this fragile?" he contemplates to himself, following him out the door. For the love of- Was this what women had to deal with all the time? It was utter garbage.

 

 

 

 

  
"Who does he think he is, Penguin?" John jabs sarcastically when they find themselves wading into the gaping mouth of a big, dark, ominous-looking sewer, at which point Sherlock has finally made up his mind.

"Alright, this isn't working. Go back home, John."

"Excuse me?"

"It stresses me out," Sherlock hisses in the manhole-spotted darkness, "What if you run out of ammo?"

"So what if I run out of ammo?"

"It'll be my fault if anything happens to you."

"Do me a favor and save the chivalrous sob story for someone else," John grouses, exasperated both by his flatmates insufferable inability to shut up, and the fact that there's crap sinking into his boots. Crouched over, he keeps his weapon low but ready. 

"John I'm serious-" Sherlock is insisting.

John rolls his eyes. "Sherlock, I'm still the same man!"

"No you're not!" Sherlock finally puts his foot down, narrowing his eyes at John's wide-eyed expression, "Yes, I'm all fine with the progressive nonsense until you actually get hurt. Then we're going to have problems."

"You should hear yourself-"

 

 

At some point in the midst of their conversation they find themselves at gun point. Perhaps they should have thought twice about arguing in the cavernous, echoing sewer system that was the underbelly of Greater London, announcing their position to anyone within a 30 foot radius.

"Sherlock, get back," John growls, aiming his Sig at Moriarty's croonies.

"What am I supposed to do? Run and cower behind a girl?" Sherlock asks, not liking this at all.

" _Yes_ ," John says, keeping his eyes trained on the enemy. He steps forward, in front of Sherlock, upping the tension.

"John-!" Sherlock grabs his arm in alarm, preventing him from moving further. The enemy seizes the moment of vulnerability to attack, dislodging John's gun, but not before John eliminates his accomplices with two rounds.

John acts quickly, incapacitating Sherlock first so that he doesn't get in the way. He sweeps a foot under Sherlock's long legs and knocks him back. In quick succession, he turns on the enemy. He proceeds to wrestle the perp to the floor in a series of deft, powerful moves he learned in basic training and within 30 seconds the poor sod is out of commission on the floor, pleading surrender.

"My god, you're a fantastic shot," Lestrade remarks once he arrives on scene, admiring John's handy work. He and the rest of NSY have simply assumed he's his sister, Harry.

"Why wouldn't I be?" John demands, folding his arms.

"Have you thought about a career at NSY?" Lestrade asks, clearly enamored.

John glances at his gun, then back at Lestrade, confused. "Shouldn't you be arresting me for illegal possession of a firearm?"

 

Lestrade blinks at the weapon as if he hadn't noticed it before, considering that John is perhaps right.

"It was his," Sherlock says frantically, pointing at the cadaver who cannot speak to defend himself, then pulls John to the side. "John what are you doing?" he whispers.

"What am I doing?" John asks snarkily, putting a hand on his hip, "I just saved your bloody life- you would be dust without me, or don't you get that?"

"I-" Sherlock swallows, stunned speechless.

"And I, man or woman, will never stop protecting you. _Is that understood?_ " he demands fiercely, making Sherlock's jaw click closed.

"Yes, mam," Sherlock chirps.

"Captain," John corrects him.

"Captain," he echoes.

 


End file.
